Quest Ministries

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

I
am grieving the loss of my friend Deacon Tom Gaudrault who died unexpectedly Sunday morning December 31, 2017.1I want to express my sorrow over this shocking event by portraying the Tom I knew.

Tom was only 58 years old when he died. For all we knew, he could have lived
another thirty years. Yet, his life was cut short by a massive heart attack in
his home. After his death we learned that Tom suffered from an autoimmune
disorder that apparently triggered his cardiac arrest.

Tom’s
motto “Spread the love!” meant spreading the love of Christ wherever he went:
at work, at church, and especially in the community. As he modestly conveyed
during one of his homilies, even waiting in line for a cup of coffee at a
convenience store gave him the opportunity to express the love of Christ. Thus,
hundreds of people waited in line some ninety minutes or more to honor Tom at
his wake on January 5. Our bond developed over the past two and a half years
mostly through short conversations before or after weekend Masses.

I’ve
been told that Tom’s relationship with our Lord was awakened at a Cursillo
weekend in the early ‘90s. That event also prompted him to become a deacon. I
had heard of Cursillo, but I wasn’t aware of its full impact until Tom invited
me to experience it during Columbus Day weekend 2015. I would describe that
excursion as a boot camp for Christians who want to recover from the effects of
our sin-saturated society. Tom’s affable, fun-loving and contagious personality
was fully on display as he served as the spiritual director for our group that
weekend.

Tom’s
training and service as a deacon in the Catholic Church shaped him and
continually prompted him to let the light of Christ shine through his attitudes
and actions. It’s no exaggeration to say that Tom fulfilled the instructions
given to church leaders in 1 Peter 5:2-3:

Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care,
watching over them—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God
wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording
it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock (NIV).

People
in our parish often referred to Tom as the glue that held the parish together.
That’s because he listened, reached out, and sometimes smoothed ruffled
feathers. He expressed to one person that he felt a special calling to come
alongside priests to be an encouragement to them. On two occasions since I have
been part of the parish, Tom filled the leadership gap for several months when
we were without a permanent priest.

As
a Eucharistic Minister, I saw Tom relate lovingly to children, especially the
altar servers at the 10:30 Sunday morning Mass. Indeed, he welcomed the young ones who
wanted to came to Jesus (Matthew 19:14). He was captivated by their Pick me! Pick me! enthusiasm. Tom was
more concerned to include children than to make sure that every part of the
Mass flowed flawlessly. I am reminded of that every time I hear the ragged
ringing of the sanctus bells.

So,
what is our consolation as we mourn the loss of Deacon Tom, especially as we
consider that his life and ministry were curtailed? We are comforted when we
realize that the timing of Tom’s death was no surprise to our Lᴏʀᴅ whose purposes are beyond comprehension.
We are comforted as we contemplate the truth expressed by the poet, “Precious
in the sight of the Lᴏʀᴅ is the death of his faithful servants”
(Psalm 116:15). And we are comforted in the hope that when the Chief Shepherd
appears, Tom will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away (1 Peter
5:4).

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Like dozens of other books published in 2017,
Peter Kreeft’s latest project, Catholics
and Protestants: What Can We Learn from Each Other?, was written to
commemorate the 500th anniversary of the start of the Protestant Reformation.
One of its key components is Jesus’ claim to be the way and the truth and the
life, and his further clarification, “No one comes to the Father except through
me” (John 14:6). Indeed, Kreeft points out that the way, the truth, and the
life correspond to the three deepest human desires: goodness, truth, and
beauty.

The way, the truth, and the
life are the three things we all need the most and therefore desire the most,
deep down. “The way” is goodness; “the truth” is truth; and “the life” is
spiritual life, beauty, bliss, and joy. Goodness, truth, and beauty are the
three essential foods of the soul.[1]

He goes on to point out that goodness, truth and
beauty are the objects of the soul’s three distinctively human powers: the
will, the mind, and the heart. They, in turn, correspond to the three
dimensions in every religion: code, creed, and cult; or works, words, and
worship.

Kreeft makes so much of the triad that it makes
sense to consider this book from that perspective. Kreeft’s tone is irenic
(goodness); his rhetoric is refreshingly clear and bold (truth); his imagery is
delightful (beauty). The strands are so intertwined that it’s difficult and
artificial to isolate them. So I’ll point them out along the way.

One of Kreeft’s qualifications for writing this
book is that he was a Protestant who became a Catholic. He spent his formative
years with his family in the Christian Reformed Church; he received his
undergraduate degree at Calvin College (Grand Rapids, MI) and became a Roman
Catholic as a young adult. He took his M.A. and PhD at Fordham University, and
has taught at Boston College in the Department of Philosophy since 1965.[2]
The first of his books that I read was Heaven:
The Heart’s Deepest Longing (1980), his explication of the argument (for
God) from desire, which C. S. Lewis exploited so beautifully in his writing.

Now in his most recent work, Kreeft promotes
unity among Catholics and Protestants beginning with his subtitle, What Can We Learn from Each Other?
(goodness). His tongue-in-cheek yet perfectly serious kick-in-the-pants
approach in the chapter titled “How Not to
Think About Reunion” is representative of the whole book. He writes that the
biblical evidence for unity “is a solemn, thunder-and-lightning-tinged order
from Almighty God.” Thus, he directs us to stop reading his words for a few minutes to encounter the monumental mandate in the Word (Psalm 133:1; John 17:11;
Romans 15:5-7; 1 Corinthians 1:10-13; 2 Cor. 13:11; Ephesians 3:1-14;
Philippians 1:27; 2:2, 54:2 and 1 Peter 3:8; 4:1). “Do it. Actually do it—now,
before you read another paragraph. Don’t just think about it—do it. . . . And
if you don’t have a Bible, go steal one.”[3]

I was thunderstruck when I read those passages.
As a Baptist pastor I thought of a statement like “Finally, all of you, be
like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble” in
1 Peter 3:8 (NIV) as applicable to the relationships within my own congregation
rather than to all of God’s people everywhere. Now, living into the Catholic
view of the Church, it’s easier to see the grand expectation of unity conveyed
by the Holy Spirit not just by Jesus (John 17:11) but also by the Apostles in
the New Testament letters.

I truly enjoy Kreeft’s unabashed ability to tell
the truth—in stark contrast to our culture's addiction to PC language. Before
Catholics and Protestants can experience freedom that comes from unity, we must
know the truth (John 8:32). This book is chock-full of blatant truth-telling.

For example, I laughed out loud in surprise and
appreciation when Kreeft responded to the question “What Happens in Individuals
Who ‘Ecumenize’?”[4]
He sets up his answer by pointing out that we won’t merely enter into polite
discussions, or merely love each other and listen to each other, or merely pray
for each other and with each other, though we should do all of those things.
Those who ecumenize discover something big and new: “Catholics discover the
fire, and Protestants discover the fireplace.”[5] He explains:

Catholics discover the essence
of Evangelical Protestantism; a personal relationship with Jesus Christ as Lord
and Savior. Protestants discover the essence of Catholicism; Christ’s own
visible, tangible Body, both as a living institution with teaching authority
and as a real literal personal presence in the Eucharist.[6]

Kreeft acknowledges that it’s not that these two things are totally
missing on either side. “Yet when Catholics and Protestants meet each other on
the deep level of religious faith, this is what very often happens, because
most Catholics have minimized the fire and most Protestants have minimized the
fireplace.”[7]
As a Christian with experience in both traditions, I heartily agree!

This “Christian Unity for Dummies” gives three
simple and undeniable reasons to work toward unity: Our Lord demands it (John
17:11); the Church teaches it (1 Corinthians 1); and the world needs it. That
third reason needs emphasis. Once again Kreeft pulls no punches, pointing out
that our civilization is dying. “Its humanistic education, its literacy, its
historical memory, its identity, its spirit, its reason for being, its hope,
its ultimate end, the very idea that there is such a thing as an “ultimate
end”, are all dying.” A fractured Church can hardly heal a splintered
civilization.

But this tremendous crisis can
be a tremendous opportunity. If we obey Christ’s “great commission” (Mt 18:28)
to preach the good news, if we show them Christ, we will save not only souls
but also society. When we apply the golden key to the lock, we fill the hole,
we bind up the lacerations. We heal.

That phrase “the golden key” is one reminder of
the beauty in this book. It’s an image Kreeft uses from time to time; and I’m
guessing he has in mind the short Grimm tale by that name[8] as well as the longer
fantasy by George MacDonald.[9]The Grimm brothers’ version is a paragraph-long story of a poor boy who has to
go out in the cold to fetch wood on a sled. After he finishes, he decides to
build a fire because he is so frozen. While clearing the ground, he finds a
small golden key and reasons that if there is a key there must also be a lock.
So he digs in the ground and finds a little iron chest. He so wants to find the
keyhole, for the box must certainly contain valuable things. Finally he spots a
tiny hole and tries the key. It fits! Now we must wait until the boy has
unlocked the chest and has opened the lid to find out what wonderful things
there are in that little box.

The golden key is Christ Himself.
“Unsurprisingly, the key to ecumenism is the same ‘golden key’ that is the key
to evangelism and, as we will see, to ecclesiology and to hermeneutics—Christ
Himself, His real presence.”[10]
Saint Augustine is a prime example for Catholics and Protestants, for both
groups look to him as a spiritual father. So Kreeft recalls Augustine’s
experience found in his Confessions:
Before Augustine knew Christ, the scriptures were meaningless; “but then later
in his life . . . Christ was present to his soul helping him interpret the
book.” What was the key to Augustine’s understanding the scriptures aright? “He
tells us: he says he ‘saw one Face’.[11] All of scripture’s doors
then opened to him, once he had the golden key.”[12]

When I stumbled onto this treasure in my
favorite bookstore I must have felt like the boy who discovered the golden key.
As I took up and read snippets of the book I felt the adrenaline rush of joy.
My month-long excursion into the hows and whys of Christian unity has been a
grand adventure. There’s only one disappointment: It’s too short!

So my wish for my Catholic and Protestant
friends is that they too will find this treasure and read it. Then we can
discover and discuss its goodness, truth, and beauty—and learn from one
another.

Monday, December 4, 2017

Someone has finally gotten to the heart of
Peter’s desire when, on the Mount of Transfiguration, he blurted out: “Lord, it
is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for
you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Matthew 17:4; cf. Mark 9:5; Luke
9:33). That someone is Paul D. Scalia, author of the collection of essays
titled, That Nothing May Be Lost. In
his selection, “His Transfiguration, and Ours,” Scalia writes,

Perhaps Peter’s words are
ill-timed. But his response shows how the human heart ought to respond in the light of Christ’s glory: “This is what I
have always desired. . . . I was created for this. . . . I want to remain in
this presence. To behold is to be held.”[1]

Those exclamations, “This is what I have always
desired. . . . I was created for this. . . . I want to remain in this
presence,” remind me of the response uttered by the unicorn Jewel when he
arrived in Aslan’s Country in C. S. Lewis’ fantasy novel, The Last Battle: “I have come home at last! This is my real
country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life,
though I never knew it till now. . . . Come further up, come further in!”[2]

The final scenes in The Last Battle are among the few places where Lewis portrayed the
fulfillment of this innate human desire. In reality, Lewis wrote mostly about
the anticipation of such glory. For
example, in his sermon “The Weight of Glory” Lewis acknowledges,

We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that
is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to
be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into
ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.[3]

As my friend Wayne Martindale points out, “Lewis
believed that every desire is at its root a desire for heaven.” Thus, Lewis
picked up on King Solomon’s observation in Ecclesiastes (3:11), “that God has
put eternity in our hearts,” and on St. Augustine’s assertion, “Our heart is
restless, until it repose in thee.” Accordingly, “Nearly all of Lewis’s works .
. . have the aim of arousing this desire for heaven or showing us how to live
in proper anticipation of our true home.”[4]

Like Peter, we all, at times, are blessed by
momentary, fleeting glimpses of glory that Lewis called Joy. In fact, those
grace-filled moments played a part in his becoming a Christian.[5]
And as a Christian, he put them in perspective.

I believe. . . that the old
stab, the old bittersweet, has come to me as often and as sharply since my conversion
as at any time of my life whatever. But I now know that the experience,
considered as a state of my own mind, had never had the kind of importance I
once gave it. It was valuable only as a pointer to something other and outer.
While that other was in doubt, the pointer naturally loomed large in my
thoughts. When we are lost in the woods the sight of a signpost is a great
matter.[6]

Yet like Peter, we want to enshrine our
mountain-top experiences, to live in them. But Scalia reminds us that a voice
responded to Peter's desire: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well
pleased. Listen to him!” (Matthew 17:5).

Listen to him! Scalia writes that the command
should bring to mind, first and foremost, our Lord’s Passion.

The journey up the mountain had
followed Jesus’ first prophecy of His Passion: “Jesus began to show his
disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders
and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised”
(Mt 16:21; cf. Mk 8:31; Lk 9:22).[7]

Peter hadn’t been able to listen to Jesus. He
couldn’t comprehend Christ’s suffering and death; nor could he fathom the
resurrection. Following Christ to Calvary was unimaginable. Thus, “Peter, who
wants so much to remain on the mountain, must first learn the path of the
Passion.”[8]Glory is the goal. The road to glory goes by way of Calvary.

It’s true that Peter’s words were ill-timed.
Yet, his response shows that we were created to desire the glory Christ
revealed that day. Eventually Peter followed his Savior to the cross, and he
came to that place where he would shout for joy: “This is what I have always
desired. . . . I was created for this. . . . I want to remain in this presence.
To behold is to be held.”

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A Trained Spiritual Director

Stan Bohall

PROFILE

Contact Information:

s.bohall@verizon.net / 508-410-9008

Experience:

For over forty years Stan has developed people and organizations through preaching, teaching, organizing, writing, motivating, and listening. He especially enjoys interacting with people in one-to-one and group settings.

Stan has a Master of Divinity from Gordon-Conwell. In 2012, he completed a certificate program in spiritual direction from Selah (http://leadershiptransformations.org/selah.htm).

Stan also loves to help people navigate life’s challenges by discussing popular stories. Fiction written by C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, Charles Dickens, Victor Hugo, and a host of others help us understand how God’s Story interacts with our own.

Specialty Skills:

Organizing people, events, and projects

Analyzing challenges, and proposing and implementing solutions

Creative writing

Conversant with computer software and the Internet

Video-conferencing via Skype and other software

Accomplishments:

Stan led an organization that was on the brink of disbanding. Through his leadership it became a more vibrant cohesive group, optimistic about its future. He led its members in group activities. He also worked with its leaders to evaluate and update the organization's purpose, financial health, and organizational structure. As a result, the group became healthier, larger, and more outward focused and welcoming.

He led a group in a ten-week discussion of Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. The majority of the participants read 100 pages per week to prepare for their sessions. He met with the group for two hours each week to discuss the contents, truths, and applications of this beautiful piece of literature.

For several years Stan led a multi-week training course for an organization. The purpose of the training was to help members understand and communicate the organization's core values with potential members. He recruited people to be part of the training, taught them how to clearly express the principles, and provided the means for them to be in touch with potential members. Leaders emerged from this training program, confident in their ability to communicate.